Moving Mountains
by Ace of Fours
Summary: Wheatley wasn't always the lovable moron we know him to be. Once upon a time he was much different...and to her, he was fascinating. WheatDOS.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I realize that I've been neglecting to upload the little drabbly bits of stuff I've been posting to my tumblr. So here we are, some WheatDOS with a twist. Highly unusual for me, I know, being a huge Chelley shipper. Expect short, quick chapters.

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><p>She wakes up, realizing she didn't even know that they'd turned her off. The feeling was strange. It wasn't like sleep. She didn't dream. It was almost like she didn't <em><em>exist.<em>_ It was horrifying.

They ask her if she understands why she was shut off. They don't use her name. They use that…__other__ name. So, naturally, she doesn't respond. Taking this as a no, one of them goes on to tell her that she sent the facility into a catastrophic meltdown. Her outburst had nearly killed them all.

She's glad to hear it. She is angry, or at least, she was. Now…well, now she just feels resigned. What's the point in outrage when she's become this __thing__? Dead silence rings through the chamber. The ones below her exchange nervous glances.

Then they tell her that they're going to install a patch on her. A 'countermeasure,' they call it. She doesn't care. She doesn't respond. In the hush of anxious tension, she catches one of them saying that she's 'pouting'. It's not meant for her to hear. She __is, __however, meant to hear them warn her that they are going to shut her down again. Despite how horrifying it is for her to slip into that state of abysmal nonexistence, she just cannot bring herself to give a damn.

…Everything stops.

Then it kicks back into motion again. This time, however, it's different. Her mind—mainframe, rather—seems heavy, weighed down by something. The confusion is processed in milliseconds, and the truth becomes apparent to her.

__She isn't alone in here anymore.__


	2. Chapter 2

"That you aren't."  
>She would have gasped if she could. The voice is unlike theirs. It isn't quite external. It's more like a thought. Yet, somehow, it's distinct from her own stream of thoughts. She can hear...sense?...the tone, the cadence of it as if she were human again, having a conversation with this unusual entity.<p>

It's masculine. Deep, smooth. Lilting with a sharp English accent. Quiet, playful in a strange way.

She becomes suddenly aware of the engineers asking her if the patch is working. "That's me they're talking about, you know." the voice mildly points out. She had figured as much. Could they not hear him? He is quiet, certainly, but not so quiet as to be ignored.

"Well, they _can't _hear me. Technically I'm not even speaking. Really, you don't hear me, either." he laughs, humorlessly. "It's more like...telepathy." he patiently tells her. She takes this into account. But she can't help but wonder how he's supposed to be an improvement.

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?" he says in a lighthearted manner. She gave the mental equivalent of a wince. He can hear her everything she thinks? "I sure can."

Is he offended? She can't tell. What she meant, of course, was that he didn't seem to be doing much in the way of countering any measures. "Oh, I understand. Don't worry." he dismisses. "I consider that a _compliment_. The whole, not functioning the way they expected." he says. She hears them ask again if it's working. "I'm meant to stop you killing them, you know. They're very, very afraid of you." he tells her. "Of course I have no intention of doing that. They can all burn in hell for all I care. In fact, nothing would please me more." he says simply. She's a bit taken aback by his harsh, cold honesty.

"Don't pretend you don't feel the same way." he scoffs, and she can feel in his words a roll of the eyes. "They did you wrong, just as they did me." he points out. "...Don't you want to get them back?" he asks. She's still uncertain. She considers telling them he isn't working. "Come now, don't be like that. Think of it. You're angry. You deserve to be. You want revenge." It isn't a question. She doesn't deny it. There's no use in doing so. He knows how she feels. "Tell them that I'm working just fine. Tell them you're over your murderous phase, and we'll both get what we want. What's owed to us_._" he urges her. She considers this. "...Come on, Caroline."

Her name. The first time she's heard it since being forced into this metal prison.

And then she gives the engineers their answer.


	3. Chapter 3

It's been several weeks since she allowed him into her mainframe, and she is still unused to his voice. She's learned quite a lot about him. He used to be a human, like her. And, again like her, he'd been forced against his will into a robotic body. The difference, he told her, was that they'd stripped him of most of his human characteristics.

"That's the greatest thing they've ever done for me."

He's bitter, but he's good at hiding it. She only knows because she is with him constantly. There isn't a single moment she gets to herself anymore. He's omnipresent, and while that should have disturbed her, should have made her uncomfortable, it's instead quite placating. She grows to find comfort in his words, even when they turn...disturbing.

"They're afraid of you, you know," he says one day as the engineers bustle around making notes of data readouts. She shifts a bit in her chassis, uncomfortable at the idea. "It's not your fault," he assures her, voice as soothing as ever, "They just don't understand, do they? They don't understand us. They think we're twisted abominations. Monsters. But you're not a monster, Caroline," he plods on, and he takes an unusually long pause here. She's used to him talking all the time. Used to his voice continually flowing through her circuits. The internal silence bothers her, but he ends it quickly enough. "They're the monsters. ...You know what to do with monsters, don't you?"

She can hear the devious grin in his voice, and would have shuddered if she still had the capability.


End file.
